Thursday, 18 July 2013

A word of
warning

It just goes to show – if you are a professional writer or
probably a professional anything– you should never abandon the golden rule that
must apply with new clients. Be paid at least 50 per cent of the first agreed project
before you start. Having discussed the project and agreed a price, with both
parties happy with what is to be done, you must insist on a down payment. Don’t
even start your real thinking before the money arrives.

I have been doing this with new clients for more than 25
years but for some reason I let up my guard, for the first time, only recently.

I was asked to write a brochure and a series of film scripts
for a company and everything was needed urgently. I had met the client, looked
over the factory, saw the value of the products involved, organised access to
relevant information to support the first task, the brochure, and soon came
back with a price.

I was about to go on holiday for a week and emailed the
client to ask whether the deal was sealed. I received two phone calls and one
email saying that the deal was indeed sealed, the price agreed and that they
were delighted to have me on board.

I wrote the brochure and sent it to the client. I then wrote
eleven, one-minute film scripts and was doubly careful that each one could be
spoken, instructively and fluidly by a professional presenter, to be hired for
the job.

My instincts should have warned me not to send anything
before receiving an initial payment. The first fire alert was the quite
unbelievable illiteracy of the owner of the factory, clearly someone who
insisted on his signature throughout every aspect of the company. I had already
noticed in the notes he gave me concerning the product range that he was all
but illiterate. And I’d seen his hand on the company’s website where the
English is shocking in almost every respect, including spelling where the simplest
of words looked foreign. Even the word ‘seen’ was spelt ‘sean’. How, I should
have said to myself, is someone who has so little basic understanding of the
written language going to appreciate even straightforward prose let alone
something confidently and boldly written by a professional?

Having foolishly submitted my brochure and scripts – all written
in time to meet what was apparently an urgent need – I awaited a reply. Nothing
came. No acknowledgement of receipt, no thanks. After several attempts to call
by landline and mobile, and various emails over about a week and a half, I
received a version of my ‘scripts’ edited by said company owner. He had turned
something clean and clear, written for a professional presenter – into something
utterly unintelligible and he asked me to ‘aprove/edit’ (sic) these
abominations. With trepidation in my heart, I attempted about four scripts and
sent these back to see if we might end up on the right lines. Weeks went by. No
responses to my calls and emails. So I sent him a note saying I must charge him
for my work to date and stated the amount. Whereupon less than an hour later I
received a rude and belligerent stream of consciousness effectively stating
that he was not paying me anything although what he was actually saying took
some time to decipher.

I shared this email with my partner who told me in no
uncertain terms that I was completely mad not to have made sure this particular
‘bottom feeder’ had paid me in advance. She is of course right. I won’t make
the same mistake again. I’m now sharing my sense of shame and loss with my blog
in the hope that anyone else out there who writes professionally abides by at
least one basic rule with all new clients. Be paid first! And do please pay heed to your gut
feelings.

It just goes to show – if you are a professional writer or
probably a professional anything– you should never abandon the golden rule that
must apply with new clients. Be paid at least 50 per cent of the first agreed project
before you start. Having discussed the project and agreed a price, with both
parties happy with what is to be done, you must insist on a down payment. Don’t
even start your real thinking before the money arrives.

I have been doing this with new clients for more than 25
years but for some reason I let up my guard, for the first time, only recently.

I was asked to write a brochure and a series of film scripts
for a company and everything was needed urgently. I had met the client, looked
over the factory, saw the value of the products involved, organised access to
relevant information to support the first task, the brochure, and soon came
back with a price.

I was about to go on holiday for a week and emailed the
client to ask whether the deal was sealed. I received two phone calls and one
email saying that the deal was indeed sealed, the price agreed and that they
were delighted to have me on board.

I wrote the brochure and sent it to the client. I then wrote
eleven, one-minute film scripts and was doubly careful that each one could be
spoken, instructively and fluidly by a professional presenter, to be hired for
the job.

My instincts should have warned me not to send anything
before receiving an initial payment. The first fire alert was the quite
unbelievable illiteracy of the owner of the factory, clearly someone who
insisted on his signature throughout every aspect of the company. I had already
noticed in the notes he gave me concerning the product range that he was all
but illiterate. And I’d seen his hand on the company’s website where the
English is shocking in almost every respect, including spelling where the simplest
of words looked foreign. Even the word ‘seen’ was spelt ‘sean’. How, I should
have said to myself, is someone who has so little basic understanding of the
written language going to appreciate even straightforward prose let alone
something confidently and boldly written by a professional?

Having foolishly submitted my brochure and scripts – all written
in time to meet what was apparently an urgent need – I awaited a reply. Nothing
came. No acknowledgement of receipt, no thanks. After several attempts to call
by landline and mobile, and various emails over about a week and a half, I
received a version of my ‘scripts’ edited by said company owner. He had turned
something clean and clear, written for a professional presenter – into something
utterly unintelligible and he asked me to ‘aprove/edit’ (sic) these
abominations. With trepidation in my heart, I attempted about four scripts and
sent these back to see if we might end up on the right lines. Weeks went by. No
responses to my calls and emails. So I sent him a note saying I must charge him
for my work to date and stated the amount. Whereupon less than an hour later I
received a rude and belligerent stream of consciousness effectively stating
that he was not paying me anything although what he was actually saying took
some time to decipher.

I shared this email with my partner who told me in no
uncertain terms that I was completely mad not to have made sure this particular
‘bottom feeder’ had paid me in advance. She is of course right. I won’t make
the same mistake again. I’m now sharing my sense of shame and loss with my blog
in the hope that anyone else out there who writes professionally abides by at
least one basic rule with all new clients. Be paid first! And do please pay heed to your gut
feelings.

Thursday, 11 July 2013

Here’s a
thought: if as Ralph Waldo Emerson once said “a foolish consistency is the
hobgoblin of small minds adored by little statesmen, philosophers and divines”
then how do we measure “foolish” and when does one step over the line into little-mindedness?

I’ve often
argued that consistency in grammar, punctuation, capitalisation, spelling and
so on makes writing of any kind more readable. (Content helps too, of course.) I
think this is partly because I’ve slaved for years attempting to dig out a
clear message or two from business prose too often lacking in any consistent
element except cliché.

I favour
consistency in all writing, not just in texts aimed at readers but for words
written for speakers too. Take away consistent punctuation, clarity of thought,
balance in sentence length, a bit of rhythm to allow ideas to make links and
breaths to be taken, and you’ll find the speech is unreadable, unspeakable and generally
insufferable. Hough! Hough! Clipperty clop! I’m now a little statesman on his
hobbyhorse.

Am I being little-minded
by advocating consistency in these ways? Perhaps. But in mild self-defence I
believe that Emerson is referring to consistency as a kind of beast which
inhibits exploration, change, creative or even coruscating thoughts and ideas,
rather than referring to an element of style. Whereas I am offering consistency
as the useful and possibly dutiful cousin of style.

But I’m
still a bit piqued by the notion of being a bit of a pedantic prat. And, even when
I’m trying to put together some kind of consistent narrative flow or style, I like
the idea of busting out occasionally – if I can get away with it. It’s like the
clown on skis. He knows his art so well that he can do astonishing acrobatics
while looking completely out of control.

My
contention is that we should truly know our art as writers too – we must learn
and apply the rules before we break them successfully.

Actually
most writing, particularly in my hobgoblin sphere of work, is not so much
devoid of consistency making it unreadable but of content making it unpalatable.
Hough, puff, clopperty clip.

About Me

Welcome to Words Professional Writing Services. On this site we describe how copywriting in the right hands can be powerful, effective and valuable. Our work is not about shop-dressing and prettifying, but about conveying strengths, activities and aims – and compelling information. It's about demonstrating the value of goods, services and strategies. It's about making a direct appeal to people and other businesses. Often it's about setting the direction of travel and spelling out the vision.